The Innocent
by stars-n-moons91
Summary: Ronan was right, as Hermione finds out. But why were they smiling? Oneshot


A stark white wall wasn't enough to cure Hermione of her troubles. It didn't exactly bear the power of resurrection. Her left brain finally realized this and compelled her to turn her gaze downward to the more promising blue carpet under her feet. She had most certainly transformed herself into a not-so-appealing sight almost overnight with puffy red eyes that had formed unsightly dark circles beneath them and streaked her once pretty face with her endless flow of tears. Her appearance wasn't the most significant topic nowadays.

She was presently standing in the spot where Harry's room as an infant had once been before the rubble it had become was rebuilt, wondering why she'd had to become friends with him. Or Ron, for that matter. It was just as hard losing him as it was Harry, if not worse.

All that had been in her mind for the past three days was the two boys that encompassed every good memory she could remember. How they could never be with her again.

Ron took the long way out. Hermione had never cried so much in her life, had never been so confused or depressed. Some of the Healers thought he'd been poisoned, others thought he had been cursed. Even though Hermione knew, she couldn't say it. She thought she might do something drastic if she spoke of it. She wanted to claim what she'd done wrong, but what good was it now? No one had cared about Ron Weasley enough to dwell on him anymore, anyway…

If she hadn't been so stupid as to leave the house without one of the boys, she wouldn't have fallen under the Imperius curse, and if that hadn't happened, she wouldn't have been able to kill Ron. A poorly conjured potion along with a few Crucios sent him into a tailspin, and all because of her. Never mind that he'd pulled it through for a while, but every second Hermione was at his bedside he was crying out in agony with tears flowing out of his eyes. She would hold his hand and sob into his chest for hours, whispering 'I'm sorry… I love you… I didn't mean to…', but it never helped. After about a month, he just stared blankly at the ceiling and muttered the occasional slurred remark, but Hermione knew every single thing he'd said. When he said 'Quidditch', she'd smiled and ran her hand through the red hair she loved so much. When he said 'Harry', she looked out the window and wondered where he was that morning.

And one particularly somber night, he gave a faint smile and out came 'Hermione…'. She had stood up, kissed him, still smiling sheepishly, and started sobbing as she ran out the door. It was the last time she ever saw him again.

"_Always the innocent are the first victims,"_ Ronan the centaur had told her during the first detention she'd ever had. Indeed…

"Ginny?" came a voice from the doorway. Not him again.

She kept her face angled at the ground and crossed her arms. She couldn't look at him anymore. She couldn't speak to him anymore. However she knew he wasn't insane, goodness no, but he might as well have been. Sometimes she just wanted to say 'Go away, Neville. She isn't coming back!', but he would never believe it.

Poor Neville Longbottom. Trying to forget didn't have to be as frightening as he made it. At least Hermione kept to herself when another bout of denial came over her, but why did he have to walk around the house calling for people he knew weren't there?

He turned away and started back down the hall. Hermione could occasionally hear him calling out, "Luna? Where are you?" or "Oi, Mr. Lupin?"

A picture caught the corner of Hermione's eye. It was the one from their last year at Hogwarts. Harry had stolen a Polaroid camera from the Durselys' and decided one day to grab Ron and Hermione by the necks and pull them close. He took a picture of them smashed together, the two on either side of Harry looking stunned and a bit blue. After being bewitched, the photo started making strange faces and laughing hysterically. Hermione longed to laugh with them again.

She looked at Harry's scar. That cursed thing that tore them apart…

The prophesy had proclaimed itself to the world in the most prominent battle wizarding history had ever witnessed. Or, at least, Hermione. She had been the only one besides Harry and Voldemort in the Forbidden Forest. Harry had lead her into the forest under the Invisibility Cloak when Voldemort fled the school after the last of his followers was overtaken by an Order Member. She remembered thinking to herself, 'Why here of all places?' but then, returning to her first detention, _"The forest hides many secrets."_

Without even saying goodbye, he ran deeper into the wooded area and out of sight. Hermione only found him when the Dark Mark appeared in the sky almost half a mile away. Her first impression was that Harry was dead, but she reached a clearing directly under it and was shocked to find her only remaining friend locked in a ferocious duel with his enemy. Curse after curse went flying across the open area, and she covered her eyes until every noise around her ceased. Hermione's fingers slowly moved apart only to find Harry lying on the ground, Voldemort nowhere in sight.

"Harry!" she'd screamed, and ran to him. The cloak fell off and onto the dirt behind her. She fell to her knees beside him. "Harry! Ha-"

His scar had vanished.

"WAKE UP!" she yelled, taking him by the shoulders and shaking him until his glasses flew off. "Damn it, WAKE UP!"

She sat back and started sobbing into her fists for an hour before Harry finally opened his eyes. "I…he's gone…" he'd whispered.

Hermione looked up and gasped. "You did it, Harry…" she beamed. "You won…"

Harry's smile was etched into her mind forever. He sighed and closed his eyes. And for the rest of her life, Hermione wondered why the most wonderful things in her life had to die smiling.

--

Not sure why I wrote this. 'Twas just an idea. Woot it up.

Was it confusing? Good? Bad? I won't know unless you review...


End file.
